An Ugly Strawberry
An Ugly Strawberry Chapter 1 I'm from somewhere. Somewhere beyond and I came here. As I turn the pages somehow every fold makes me realize it's better to do it young. It's better to be left free and wild in beauty. I go back so many times in my memory and realize--it's the first time that matters. The first time we fall in love from which we taste the adventure of a plum, the twist of a lemon, and an ugly of a strawberry. It all starts now. Or Never. Do you have the courage of gladiators? Do you have the fire of Libra? Do you have the love of a quiet mouse that defeats the end of time? How to put together a story about real life? Truly, the truth is often stranger than fiction. Somehow if I told myself these facts about two years ago I would never believe it. Because I never knew, and yet now I know everything. So, here I go...I'm a seraphim from the highest level of heaven--the 7th level. A Seraphim is the highest ranking angel who like the muses of ancient Greece focus on learning. And I'm Agnostic. My origins is from the fires of Libra. Libra is Atlantis. I had pink hair and violet eyes and loved to be in life. I'm very kerplunky--a new shade of yellow. Before I get ahead of myself you have to know the whole story. Let me rewind...stop...stop...there. (An awkward moment of me brushing my teeth.) No...no...fast forward...(An awkward moment of me raising my hand.) No just press the button fool! Okay Okay...yes right there... "The french class is invited to go on a trip to France. Please let your parents sign a permission slip and give money for the trip. We hope you all enjoy the trip." says the french teacher in a beaming fashion. There I am--a wallflower nerd into poetry, and art. I'm dressed perfectly wallflower with plain clothing. I have pimples up to wazhoo, and I don't know how to wear highheels. I'm definitely not in the popular crowd, or the nerd popular crowd. I'm not in science club, or math club--because being half chinese includes me in that stereotypical category...right? I know scream-fest a half asian and half French/German/Italian/Romanian in the main character of this story. Boy! I'm breaking molds. Let's just say it all changes when I go to France. France--the romantics place for baguettes and good coffee. The place where Monet and Manet make it. France. Freedom. 'nuff said. It's in my blood. Je t'aime! Chapter 2: "You must understand French culture before you go to France." Our French teacher said. "You're not going to be an ugly American who talks loud in English to get service. You will ask in French and in France they love people who admire culture. You will be humble ambassadors! You will never admit you are American. Now you're going to take an exam on French culture and it will enhance your trip to France. You won't just see images you'll understand the history." Yes. I failed the exam the first time. Patrick Martin aced the exam and so did Ian Matts. Yay! The jock nerd, and the science nerd strike again. They win. PMIM or IM Pei Pair I called them in my head (based off the name of a famous architect who designed glass prymaids for the Louvre in France:: See I eventually master French culture!: 500 points. Joy: 0 points. Everyone moaned and groaned but we were excited to go on a trip to France. So one little cross to bear isn't too bad. We took the culture class, and the french class. We were taught how to not be American. It was interesting. We got our passports together with our belongings. We all had one thought: France! It was unique that we were so transcendental because all of us are from different cliques--different worlds. Actually all of us were from different friend groups who always hanged out in different hallways. I always stayed in the artroom in the dungeon painting my life away. Science nerds would always stay in the left wing cramming and breaking pencils--their idea of rebellion. And the populars would always hang out in the front hallways talking about movies. We were the best of all the worlds. At the time I didn't know my classmates were from different dimensions as well. But there you go...a twist in the story. MMMmmmm I taste lemon. "You will be divided in groups based on the alphabet. Names will be sorted at random. Group A: Ian Matts, Patrick Martin, Sarah Rose, Emily, Julie and Joy Messerschmidt." I was stunned. I'm in group A? I never make group A. I'm with the superstars? I'm one of them now? I'm with sheep? Sheep? SHEEP? I'm totally against the man, you know. They always follow shit mindlessly. I want the uniqe crowd. Not the guys who play rankie at the top. Great. I'm with the shitheads who don't understand originality. I'm an honest fucker. That was my first mental reaction to being picked for that group. Let me tell you I acted like an ugly American. France changed that opinion quick. And I'm going to tell you how... There I was with my new notebook ready to record France happening on the bus trip to our airplane. It was a big van and held all of us like children with a fairytale. None of us spoke except to our distant friend group. It sorta went like this...you sorta hang with us...sorta so I'll hang with you because I'm not with my normal social clique. I wore a plain pink outfit and had a bad haircut. Everyone was dressed like newly minted coins. We didn't speak each others lingos and found it a bit awkward to even try. Everyone just slept from exhaustion. Finally on the airplane to France I got a seat directly next to Ian Matts. Ian Matts immediately said something was wrong and that he wanted to sit right next to Patrick Martin. He kept hinting that he deserved it and not me. Very quickly I flashed him an advanced equation and he said, "Yo, can I take that and sit next to Patrick Martin." And I said no Somehow the time just breezed by and I started playing in my imaginary worlds. There was a world where ideas were like butterfly and I would just catch them with my mind. Suddenly the flight was over and we got our luggage. We had to get in our alphabetical groups before we made it to the bus in France. We took a picture. All of us gathered in the group. Not understanding the change that was about to take place. Patrick Martin was the first to hint that he wanted to play in my worlds. But I didn’t understand. Then we packed into a bus and before I did I commented on the color of the sky. “It’s blue,” I said out loud, “a pure kind of blue.” On the bus I noticed that the curtains were a tangy kind of orange. I popped it out in candy form in my imagination and started eating it. I started imagining myself a full grown beauty in a fashionable silk velvet brown dress. I was at this imaginary bar served by a green alien. I took a sip of alien beer while waiting to get off the bus. “Just as you like it Miss.” The green alien said. I was writing a poem when suddenly Ian Matts asked, “What are you writing?” Equations, and ideas popped from my imagination into reality and I said, “A poem.” “Can you read it out loud?” he asked. So I read it, “Tangy Orange Curtains: The wind snatches a blossom or two And an ant sails on a leaf careening on the waters Slowly revealing the false sky.” Ian Matts spoke to me psychically, “Yeah." I responded, “Wait. You’re psychic?” He said, “We’re all psychic. Where have you been?” I said, “In my imaginary worlds. Wait you can see them?” “Give me some damn beer.” he said. I passed him a cup of beer and he drank it down. Everyone peered at me jealous. Patrick Martin then said, “So do you know string theory?” I said, “Oh yeah…there’s a .2 difference between this reality and the next reality. So John Titor says…the time traveler.” It was strange. No one could see my worlds before….now they could and they ask for beer. Of course I gave psychic beer to everyone. I started wandering in a world where the grass was spun sugar, and the sky was pieces of chocolate. I wandered in it a while before Ian followed me. “Yeah.” He said. “You kinda just walked in my world. Amazing.” I said. Ian Matts from Aquarius ended up in MIT because he designed an android. Patrick Martin from Capricorn ended up in Dartmouth and is known as a great linguistic. Bill Kowalsky from Virgo who was negated from our reality ended up in Harvard and missed Spackenkill High School. I Joy Messerschmidt dropped from ended up in Le Moyne College to write this story about an amazing friendship of friends from different worlds who wanted to meet me to journey together to the future which is the present moment. It is a gift. A present.